


Seeking Refuge From The Cold

by tehfanglyfish



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Although Merlin Doesn't Know That He Knows, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Deviates From Canon, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Fluff, Getting Together, Leon Doesn't Get Paid Enough, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 16:02:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehfanglyfish/pseuds/tehfanglyfish
Summary: An unusual coldsnap in Camelot forces Arthur to acknowledge some things where Merlin was concerned.





	Seeking Refuge From The Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory not making monies off of this, not claiming these characters statement.

Having a manservant was tedious business for a king. Most tended to be sniveling bootlickers. A few were overly dedicated to their profession, leading to an unhealthy obsession with brass. And then there was Merlin – incredibly brave, surprisingly wise, and not all that good at actually serving. Take just now. The fire in Arthur’s chambers clearly needed tending, yet Merlin was nowhere to be found.

In all fairness, it was Arthur’s fault that Merlin was missing. Like much of the castle staff, his servant had the afternoon off, as the deep snow and brutal cold blanketing Camelot brought productivity to a halt. Servants and nobles alike tended only to their most essential tasks, then spent the rest of the day sheltering with whatever warmth they could find. Nothing like a bitter deep-freeze to remind one of just how drafty castles actually were.

And yet even with the biting cold and his offer of an afternoon’s freedom, Arthur was still surprised to find himself alone, feeling slightly abandoned. If Merlin had been there, he’d remind Arthur that he could use his own strong, knightly arms to tend to the fire. Which was of course true. Arthur could easily remedy the problem with the fire, but not the unsettling quiet that came from the absence of his insolent servant.

How was Arthur supposed to make it through the day without Merlin’s incessant prattle? What if he suddenly had to make an important policy decision? He couldn’t simply rely on the advice of self-serving council members. And what if the king felt insecure and needed someone to look at him reassuringly while he made that decision? Only one set of sparklingly blue eyes would do.

Clearly Merlin’s absence was a matter of national security. There was only one appropriate course of action – Arthur would have to track down his servant.

The king wrapped himself in his warmest cloak, then grabbed a spare. Merlin needed something better than his thin jacket for this weather. Leaving his room, Arthur found the corridors abandoned. Under normal circumstances, the lack of guards would have concerned him but it was far too cold for anyone to consider attacking the castle. Cattle were freezing in the fields – a siege was highly unlikely.

One by one, the king made his way to the various places where Merlin might have gone seeking refuge from the cold.

Several of his knights had gathered in Percival’s chambers, playing dice, telling bawdry stories, and hesitantly drinking small sips of whatever it was that Gwaine kept passing around.

“Guaranteed to warm your balls, I mean bones, sire,” he’d explained as he offered a cup to the king. One smell told Arthur all he needed to know.

“I’ll pass. Is Merlin here?”

“Haven’t seen him all day. Is something wrong?”

“Not that I know of. I just can’t find him.”

As Arthur considered enlisting the help of his knights, Percival began belting out a ballad about lost lovers searching for each other. Clearly he’d been imbibing Gwaine’s mystery brew. The pointed stare he gave Arthur suggested an element of subtext in the lyrics that the king was missing. 

“If he does turn up, tell him that I expect him in my chambers. It’s far too cold in there and I need him to warm things up.”

Gwaine choked on his drink but nodded.

Leaving his knights, he continued onward. He knew that Merlin had sometimes gossiped with the laundresses. They knew more about castle intrigue than seemingly anyone else in Camelot.

Arthur Pendragon had faced down countless enemies in his life, many of whom were hellbent on killing him. Yet none had ever glared at him quite so ferociously as the group of women clustered around the hearth in the laundry. Clearly, his behavior had been inexcusably rude, intruding on their whispered conversations. After inquiring about Merlin, he found him mumbling a sheepish apology before hastily taking his leave.

As he walked away, the whispering resumed, more intently than before. He almost thought he heard them mention his name and Merlin’s, interspersed with a few “awws” and gentle laughter. But that couldn’t be right. What possible reason would they have to gossip about the king and his servant?

Gaius, Geoffrey, and other councilors huddled together with much of the serving staff in the kitchens, the cold forcing people to cross class divisions. This was by far the most comfortable spot in the entire castle and Arthur was tempted to stay until Gaius reported that even he was unsure of where to find Merlin.

“I thought he was with you, sire. You could check my rooms, though I doubt he’ll be there. It’s much too cold. Shall I help you look?”

Arthur assured the old man that there was no need for him to leave the warm fire.

“He’s around somewhere, but I’ll let you know if he doesn’t turn up.”

The king quickly made his way to the physician’s chamber. Gaius had been right. That wing of the castle was freezing. He wished he’d worn his gloves as he reached for the metal latch to open the door.

The workshop was still, the vestiges of a fire smoldering, doing nothing to combat the cold. As he surveyed room, Arthur wondered if the potions and tonics were in danger from the weather, but figured Gaius would’ve taken precautions if that were the case.

The king was just about to leave when he noticed the storeroom where Merlin slept. There was no way his servant could be in there, not with the door closed. That room uncomfortably cool even in early autumn – on a day like this it wouldn’t be any warmer than the outside. Gaius had likely shut it off to save heat. Still, Arthur decided to check. He was running out of places to look.

Arthur blew on his fingers to warm them, then reached out a hand to push the door open. He stepped forward into… the middle of summer?

He felt no trace of the biting cold, balmy air filling the entire room. If it could even be called a room. Instead of a stone floor, he found moss and ferns and grasses. A few trees had apparently taken root, their branches covered in green foliage. Warm sunlight filtered through the leaves. Arthur could hear birds singing, bugs chirping, and the babbling of a small stream flowing where the rear wall of the castle should have been.

The only elements of Merlin’s bedroom that remained were the bed, backed against a tree trunk for shade, and Merlin, sitting on the mattress, holding a book, eyes wide in terror.

“I can explain.”

“Can you? Can you really?”

“Yes. Although you won’t like it.”

Arthur sighed and glanced around, trying to collect his thoughts. He’d known for more than a decade that Merlin was keeping something from him and had strong hunches regarding what exactly that secret might be. One could only explain away so many well-timed falling branches, convenient rock slides, and clumsy bandits as happy coincidences.

In the back of his mind, Arthur had years ago accepted that Merlin had magic. He just hadn’t been sure of what to do about it. Of course he was familiar with Uther’s views on the matter. But even before Arthur met Merlin, he’d recognized that Uther had been horribly wrong on a great number of things. And so, Arthur did what was easiest – he simply ignored it.

Even after becoming king he continued to take the path of least resistance. Arthur hadn’t prosecuted anyone for nonviolent magical offences since taking the throne, but he also hadn’t made an effort to change the laws, much less broach the subject with Merlin.

Yet here he was, in a position where he could no longer ignore it. He would have to do something – the question was, what? Out of habit, he looked to Merlin for help. For the first time in as long as Arthur could remember, the man he relied on the most when he was uncertain and full of doubt refused to make eye contact with him. Arthur didn’t like that one bit.

“Budge over.”

Magical forest or not, the room was still quite small and it only took Arthur a couple of steps to approach the bed. Merlin gave him a questioning glance, then shifted to the side, freeing up space for Arthur to sit next him. The king was still searching for the right words when Merlin spoke first.

“It was cold. Cold when I woke up, cold when I ran errands for Gaius, cold when I ran errands for you. I couldn’t remember the last time my feet were warm and so I…”

“Just conjured summer?”

“Something like that. It’s not dangerous, I swear.”

Arthur glanced at Merlin, whose face was so intense and earnest as he tried to convince the king that this most idyllic of settings was no threat to the realm. It was beyond absurd. Arthur began to laugh, earning him an exasperated sigh and an incredulous look. Arthur only laughed harder, tears streaming down his face, chest aching from the force of it. For a moment he couldn’t breathe. All the while Merlin stared at him.

Eventually Arthur’s laughter calmed and, without thinking, he reached his hand out to grasp Merlin’s.

“You are absolutely ridiculous,” Arthur said softly, interlacing their fingers. “My father tried to warn me about the dangers of sorcerers, but he failed to caution me on how endearing they can be.”

A blue butterfly flitted past and it took all of Arthur’s control to stifle another laugh.

“So does this mean you’re not going to…” Merlin choked, unable to finish, though Arthur knew where that question was heading.

“Merlin, look at me. I swear to you that you have nothing to fear from me. And I think… I think it’s time for policy changes.”

“But the council…”

“Half of the council already think change is overdue and the rest will come around because you’ll be there to help me convince them. I can’t think of anyone in this kingdom who has shown more loyalty to me than you.”

Arthur squeezed his hand.

“Now tell me, can you make it summer throughout the entire castle?”

“I’ve never held an enchantment that large. I can try but it will take a lot of concentration and…”

“Then not the whole castle. I’ve had to do without your prattle all afternoon. I refuse to be deprived of it tonight.”

 Merlin blushed.

“What about my chambers? Would that be too much?”

“No, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Then come along.”

Arthur dragged Merlin off the bed, shuffled him into the spare cloak he’d brought, then again grabbed Merlin’s hand, pulling him out into the cold of the open corridor.

“Your fingers will freeze on the way,” the king said to Merlin’s questioning glance at their hands. “This will help keep them warm. Now let’s get back to my chambers. The bed is bigger and more comfortable. And I intend to keep you up all night, learning just what you can do.”

Half a second later Arthur’s brain caught up with his mouth.

“Oh gods, not like that. I’m so sorry, Merlin. I didn’t mean it like…”

Arthur loosened his grip on Merlin’s fingers to let him pull away. Merlin held firm.

“I wouldn’t…. I wouldn’t mind it if you did mean it. Like that. I think I might be pleased.”

Merlin met Arthur’s eyes and suddenly the cold melted away, Arthur unsure if he’d ever felt warmer.

“Come on,” Merlin said, gently pulling his stunned king down the hall.

________________________________

A few hours later a concerned Sir Leon knocked on the door to Arthur’s chambers.

“Sire, are you in there? Did you find Merlin?”

There was no response, though Leon could swear he heard something from the other side of the door. It sounded like… birds singing?

“My lord, is everything alright?

 “All is well, Leon.” There was something odd in the king’s tone.

“Can I come in? Just to make sure?”

“It’s not a good time, Leon,” Merlin’s voice replied. “We’re, um, we’re discussing policy changes.”

Policy changes. So that’s what they were calling it these days. Leon didn’t think it could get any worse than ‘poetry lessons’ but apparently he was wrong.

“I’ll leave you to your policy changes then,” Leon muttered, already heading down the hall. It was entirely too cold to deal with this. Maybe Gwaine still had some of his atrocious swill left. Leon really needed a drink.


End file.
